17 #2
‘Nev is a security expert,’ Elizabeth said. ‘A sort of cross between a private eye and a bodyguard.’
Neville grimaced. ‘Actually, I own and run a very large, legitimate and well-respected inquiry agency that also advises on security matters,’ he corrected her.
‘That’s right – that’s how my fella knew him,’ Elizabeth explained.
‘One of the film production companies he was working with hired Nev and his staff for security at one of their shoots. He provided bodyguards for the stars, and his men patrolled the shoots to keep away looters and thieves and whatnot. So when I told him I wanted somebody to . . . er . . . look after Lyssa, my bloke suggested Nev. I couldn’t believe it when he told me that Nev actually lived right here in the same building as you, Lyssa,’ Elizabeth said, turning to give her a brief smile.
‘It just felt as if it was meant to be, you know? Fate – the stars aligning and all that. He was right here on the spot already.’
‘So I wouldn’t suspect a thing when he started spying on me, you mean?’ Lyssa said bitterly. ‘It was you who bugged my phone and laptop and hacked my emails, right?’ she shot at Neville.
‘Wrong,’ he told her. ‘That was all down to Jonas Bannister.’
For a moment, a stunned silence fell upon the group of four friends. It was, inevitably, Jason who broke it. ‘Who the hell is this Jonas Bannister exactly?’
‘He was one of the people I interviewed for the book,’ Lyssa explained, looking at Neville with troubled eyes. ‘His father was Glen Bannister’s younger brother.’
‘Why would he bug your flat?’ Carter asked sceptically.
‘Probably because he had things of his going on that he wanted to keep a tight lid on, and wanted to make sure Lyssa wouldn’t unearth them and drag them out into the light of day,’ Neville said, looking at Elizabeth, who was nodding eagerly, giving him permission to tell what he knew.
‘I traced the two men who came to your flat via their car registration number, and it turned out to be a company vehicle which led me back to him. They work for his security man. I haven’t found out yet exactly what he’s worried about but . . .’
‘Actually,’ Lyssa said, nodding thoughtfully, ‘I think I might be able to help there. I suspect that a woman called Deborah Simmonds looted Monty’s charity funds after Monty died.
And I began to wonder if Jonas’ father had discovered this.
Especially when I noticed in my research that Bannister BioSolutions was founded not long after Monty’s death, and I couldn’t track down the source of his initial funding to any bank loans.
The coincidence is quite striking, don’t you think?
’ Briefly she told them about Janet Connor and what she had witnessed at Monty’s funeral.
‘It might be a bit of a leap, and I might be wrong, but . . .’
‘It makes sense,’ Neville said, giving her a gentle smile.
‘You’ve really been digging deep, haven’t you?
And since his two goons put him so firmly on my radar, I’ve had my research department checking into him as well.
And believe me, the provenance of the early financing of that company of his is ambiguous, to say the least.’
‘See!’ Elizabeth shot out. ‘Everybody was bad-mouthing poor Monty, but the Bannisters were no angels either! Blackmail and fraud! Hah!’
‘Well, if it’s any consolation,’ Neville said dryly, ‘he’s probably getting his comeuppance now. I’ve had people watching him ever since the raid on your flat’ – he nodded at Lyssa – ‘and he’s recently had a visit from a young villain called Jack Flynn.’
‘I know him too,’ Lyssa said quickly. ‘He’s a relative of Deborah Simmonds. I phoned and asked him if he had any papers about Deborah or the Young Mothers’ Trust that Monty set up. He hasn’t got back to me yet.’
‘Well, I think you can take it that he must have found some,’ Neville said, raising one eyebrow. ‘Because he’s turned up at Jonas’ offices. And I’ll give you three guesses as to what was on his mind.’
‘Blackmail,’ Elizabeth said. ‘Has to be. Because if it gets out that Bannister’s company was founded on stolen charity money, their share price will drop like a ton of bricks.’ She sounded very happy about it, but nobody had the heart to chide her.
‘No wonder this Jonas character wasn’t happy when he heard that you’d started to research a book on Amelia Montrose, then,’ Carter said, giving Lyssa a wink.
‘Especially as you’re so good at discovering everyone’s secrets.
’ Then he turned and looked at Elizabeth.
‘Is that why you hired Neville? Because you suspected Jonas might get rough?’ he asked accusingly.
‘Oh no, that wasn’t it at all, was it?’ It was Lyssa who answered his question, whilst looking at her client with knowing, angry eyes. ‘You just wanted somebody on the spot to make sure that if I did find proof that Monty wrote the songs, I’d turn it straight over to you, right?’
Elizabeth bit her lip. ‘That’s putting it rather strong,’ she temporised. ‘Let’s just say that I wanted to make extra sure. Once word got out about the new film, and the soundtrack, well . . . you might have got certain ideas.’
‘Like selling the proof that Monty co-wrote the songs to the remaining Bannister family members, you mean, so that they could destroy the evidence and continue to claim all the royalties for themselves once the film made the Lucky Cuckoos a big name again?’ Lyssa said flatly. ‘Well, thanks a lot.’
‘Of course, I don’t think that now,’ Elizabeth wailed, putting a conciliatory hand on Lyssa’s arm again.
‘I mean, once I’d got to know you and everything,’ she trailed off miserably.
Then, typically, rallied almost at once.
Lyssa had to hand it to her – her client was nothing if not a fighter.
‘And it was a good thing I did have Nev watching over you, isn’t it?
After all, he saved your bacon today, didn’t he? ’
‘Yes, he did most certainly do that,’ Lyssa said, looking at Neville with wide, troubled eyes. ‘I suppose that Jonas Bannister was behind that too, was he? The attack on me today?’
But Neville was already shaking his head. ‘No, as a matter of fact, he wasn’t. I memorised the number plate of the 4x4 and whilst I was waiting for the tow truck to arrive I got my people to track down the owner.’
Lyssa blinked at him for a moment and went rather pale.
‘Who was it, then?’ she asked quietly, feeling a momentary sense of despair. Just how many people wanted her dead?
Neville said softly, ‘I’m afraid it was Jennifer Joiner.’
Everyone seemed to take a deep breath. Lyssa, after the initial wave of shock had swept over her, slowly began to nod her head.
‘I think I understand now,’ she said, her voice rather uneven.
‘When Monica Farley phoned me and I told her where I was, and all about finding proof that Monty had written the songs, she must have told her daughter. And Jennifer then drove straight up from London – but who could have imagined that she’d do something so drastic? ’
Neville shrugged. ‘Personally, I think she must be a bit unhinged. I noticed the 4x4 pulling out after you left Caroline’s care home. I didn’t make anything of it at the time though, until she tried to run you off the road.’
‘She was after the letters,’ Lyssa said sadly.
‘She’s got some kind of father fixation, and “Racey” Joiner hated Monty with a passion.
The last thing she’d have wanted was a book coming out giving Monty the credit she deserved for helping write the songs.
Poor Monica . . . Oh! The letters!’ She gave a yelp of despair.
‘I left them in my car . . .’ She tried to struggle to her feet, but Jason gently pushed her back down.
‘It’s OK,’ Neville said, hastily pulling the A4 envelope out of his pocket and handing it over to her. ‘I saw it in your car after you’d left with Carter and thought you must have forgotten about it.’
‘You had them all this time?’ Elizabeth squeaked. ‘Why didn’t you show them to me?’
Neville shot her a quelling look, and again Elizabeth flushed in shame. ‘Sorry. But can I see them?’ She looked appealingly at Lyssa. Wordlessly, Lyssa handed them over and watched as her client read them avidly. ‘These are perfect. I’ll get on to my solicitors right away.’
‘Bully for you,’ Jason said snidely.
‘What do you want to do about Jennifer Joiner?’ Neville asked Lyssa, and everyone went suddenly quiet.
‘We can call the police. I can say that the number plate registration has just come back to me. They’ll find out who it belongs to and check out the damage done to her 4x4.
And if we tell them what we know, once they learn it wasn’t a random accident, she’s bound to face serious charges. ’
Lyssa closed her eyes and shook her head wearily. ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to think it over. It’s Monica I feel sorry for . . .’
‘Well, at least you can get a good night’s sleep now,’ Freida pointed out. ‘We were wondering if Monty might have been murdered, and that all the things that were happening to you were because of that, weren’t we? But now we know that’s not the case. Monty must have died accidentally after all.’
‘At least our case is now solved,’ Jason said, raising his hand in a high-five gesture to Carter. ‘The Oxford Detective Society scores its first ever victory!’
‘Huh? Who?’ Neville asked, looking bewildered.
‘Oh, just ignore him,’ Freida advised. ‘We all do.’
Carter sighed rather heavily but slapped his hand against Jason’s to show willing. ‘At least he’s right about it all being over now,’ he acceded.
Lyssa opened her mouth to say something, then slowly closed it again. She had her own thoughts about that, but right now she was too tired to get into it.
‘Yes, we should leave you to get some rest,’ Neville said, wilting with fatigue. ‘Perhaps we can talk again tomorrow?’
Lyssa met his kind, concerned eyes and found herself nodding. ‘All right. Tomorrow,’ she promised.